Double Dealings
by Ellyndia McGovern III
Summary: Another View of Snape as a spy--from Mr. Borgin, part owner of Borgin and Burkes, Knockturn Alley


Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recongnize.

Double Dealings

Selling is my trade. I find a certain thrill in providing unique and powerful wares to some of the more....interesting personalities in wizard kind.

Some might judge me because of my apparent lack of morals. My clients tend to delve heavily into the Dark Arts-- but I do not question for what reasons. When in this trade, especially with such influential and old clients, one does not question why they need to buy an Undetectable poison or sell a cursed cauldron. I just smile, exchange items, and they are on their way.

My business is profitable -- especially nowadays when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is rising to power again. For about 15 years, from about '65 to '80, business was booming. I always had customers streaming in, and knowing them, they always managed to come at separate times. Therefore the store was never cluttered with customers, but with maybe 5 people at the most. And unlike these new stores today, where the customers fiddled with the merchandise, my customers have enough sense to treat my business and my wares with respect. Well, usually. There is a definite advantage to dealing with the heads of old wizarding families.

Anyway, many years I have gotten suspicious looks from the people at the Ministry; they come in periodically, yell at me a bit for helping further You-Know-Who's efforts, but like I continually had to state, I did not know anything about Death Eater movements. I do not think that Death Eaters would be stupid enough to confess their plan to their local Dark Artifact dealer. Yes, they even subpoenaed me to appear before the High Court, but they found nothing. 

Many people have their own version of what they were doing July 31, 1980. For me, it was just another night....  
***  
July 31, 1980:

7:00p.m.

I took the figures and examined them minutely. Edward Burkes had just left the store and I was settling into the night shift. We kept the store open 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. Not for our own health, mind you, but because our trade demanded it. We were running slightly higher sales totals than usual that day. The success continued, if not improved, after dark. I was able to sell after 3 years my Deck of Many Things to an eager youngster to the Dark Arts front only 10 minutes after my shift started."I need something which looks innocent" he had said. He was obviously new to the Dark Arts scene, because of his pointing out that the item had to be 'innocent.'   
"Well, what about this bowl?" I had said, gesturing to a blue lapis lazuli bowl. "Fill it with water, and the wizard filling the bowl will be shrunk to the size of a small ant, and plunged into the center of the bowl, where he will drown."  
The man seemed interested, but then his eyes fell to a dusty box beside the bowl.   
"What is that?' he asked, reaching for the box.  
"I wouldn't take that, if I were you," I said. I almost forgot I had the deck. "It is a deck of cards, but when one is drawn, something either very good or very nasty will occur to the one who drew the card."  
I took the box in my hands and examined it.  
"If I remember correctly, this box has had all the beneficial cards removed, and contains only the harmful cards."  
The customer scratched his chin. He looked upon the bowl, which was a new arrival, to the dusty old box of cards.  
"I'll take the cards."  
I immediately bowed and clasped my hands behind my back. "An excellent choice, sir. That will be 20 Galleons."  
I took the box and moved to the counter; he followed me. When he had exchanged gold I gave him the box.   
"Well, I must say sir, you have excellent taste. That is a unique item which I have only seen one other time in my 30 years in this business. I do hope I have the pleasure of having more of your business in the future."  
He nodded and left the store.  
Seeing as the store was empty for the moment, I turned to gather my 'gift' to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. It was the only way that I could stop them from hauling me back to the High Court for every Dark Artifact found at the scene of a crime.  
I heard the ringing of the door, and was glad to see Wilbery from the Minsitry was on time today until I turned around and looked at who had entered. It was not Wilbery. I pushed back the hair from my face and said, with some pleasure, for this was one of my best customers--  
"Mr. Snape! How are you today, sir?"  
Severus Snape surveyed my wares, and I could feel his penetrating eyes critique each one of my Bucking Brooms, hung proudly in a case, to a collection of Choking Collars now struggling on a display rack.  
He remained silent until he reached my counter.   
"Good evening, Mr. Borgin," he said, in his usual, mellifluous voice.  
"Good evening, sir! Your shipment of Drying Dust has arrived, I'll go get it from the back--"  
"That is not why I'm here."  
I turned to him and for the first time looked in his eyes. They possessed the power and royal blood that I have seen all pureblood men have, but this one...seemed troubled. I should not have asked, but....  
"What is troubling you tonight, sir?"  
He curled his lip with disdain. "None of your concern," he spat, but this display of power was tinged with another unidentifiable feeling. I proceeded with my trade.  
"What do you require today, sir?"  
He looked down at me from his hooked nose. He looked around, as if expecting someone to Apperate in here, then turned to me.  
"Information."  
"I'm sorry, sir." I said. "I respect all my customers, but I keep all purchases confidential. You see sir, seeing as that many of my clients are influ-"  
As quick as the proverbial snake, he reached across the counter and grabbed my shirt by the lapels. I tried to get away, but the thin pale hands were surprisingly strong.  
"Mr. Borgin," he whispered as his hypnotic eyes bored into mine. "I am sure that you know of my competency in the Potions field. I am fully capable of making potions which, when drunk, makes the resulting death look like an accident. Such potions are tasteless, odorless, and colorless. It would be quite easy for me or one of my associates to slip a sample for you to try in your evening meal-- seeing as many consider myself an influential member of the wizarding community."  
He spat out influential as if it were a sin. This is not the first time I have been threatened, nor the first time someone has grabbed me across the counter by my lapels. But that did not remove the ball of nervous energy which gathered in my stomach, or my fear of death.   
"Do you understand, Mr. Borgin?" he asked waspishly.  
"Yes sir," I said, and he let me go. I straightened my shirt, and with a glance around the store, walked out from the counter toward the door. I locked it, all 20 locks, and when the final lock had closed, I turned and went to the back room. He followed me silently, sweeping between the narrow shelves full of artifacts.   
We entered my office, and I again locked all the locks, both magical and otherwise, on my door. When I had turned around, he had sat in one of the vacant chairs. I thought this very pretentious on the man's part, but seeing as he was the one in power in the situation, it made all the more sense.  
I stood and wrung my hands in expectation.  
He merely looked at me and pointed to my chair behind my desk. "Sit," he commanded. I obeyed, not at all comforted by the gesture. I was at his command, so I sat in the chair. He crossed his legs and steepled his fingers in a relaxed gesture, but I knew better.  
"Good, Mr. Borgin. Your cooperation in this affair will be duly noted. I am sorry, though, to have to inconvenience you on such an opportune night, when many purchases are to be made..."  
"What do you want to know?"  
He smiled a meaningless smile which scared me more than his direct threat; it did not fit upon that face, more like it was forced onto his face in a horrible parody of friendship.  
"Are you inconvienced, Mr. Borgin?"  
"No, no, not at all, Mr. Snape."  
"I thought not." he draped his arms carelessly from the armrests. Again those cruel calculating eyes which seemed a dominate feature of pureblooded families held me from across the table.  
"I want to know if one Peter Pettigrew bought anything resembling a small scarab from your store within the past few weeks."  
"I'm sorry...I do not remember a Peter Pettigrew, nor do I recall owning a scarab of any kind."  
His eyes narrowed and I could see he was not pleased with my answer. Very delicately his hands found their way into his lap. He spoke quieter now, and I almost had to lean across the desk to hear him.  
"Search your memory more carefully, Mr. Borgin. I am sure that one Peter Pettigrew bought a scarab from you on the 26th of July of this year. I am positive, in fact, of this."  
I wrung my hands again and tried desperately to find in my memory the purchase...but I could not.  
"I-I-I cannot remember, Mr. Snape."  
I watched with horror as he slowly, and with great purpose, pulled out a long dark mahogany 13 inch wand from within a pocket. I watched as he twirled and handled the wand on the tips of his fingers, examining it from all dimensions, feeling each grain of wood with almost a lovers touch. I reached in my pocket--  
"I do not suggest that you try to retrieve your wand, Mr. Borgin," he said, still looking at his wand. "I fear it would be quite a shock to your weak heart to find that it is no longer in your pocket."  
My heart froze for a moment when I realized that he was right. I stood up in anger.  
"Now see here sir-" His benign smile was gone and his wand was now pointing directly at me.  
"Sit down, Mr. Borgin. Your wand will be returned to you in due time, should you choose to cooperate."  
I sat down slowly, and wondered when this personality would be done playing with me and whether he would let me go alive.   
"It is of the utmost importance that you remember the scarab you sold to Mr. Pettigrew. What were its traits?"  
I started to sweat as I searched for something, anything which might appease this very dangerous man in front of me.  
"I suggest you hurry, Mr. Borgin. I have other engagements which I cannot break tonight." His wand did not move.   
"I-I-seem to remember one scarab," I finally said, and he lowered the wand a tiny bit. "It was a small pin, but when held in one's palm, within a minute will bury into the person's skin, travel to the heart, and strike them dead. B-but it can be safely held if it is in a jar of some kind." My heart was beating. I should have been cooler, I thought, but not many of the prim customers threatened me themselves. It was usually a thug or lackey. It was easier to remain cool when confronted with one of lower intelligence. Here was a refined man, skilled in social adroitness and proper ceremony, who was now threatening to kill me.  
He smiled his benign smile for a moment, and stood up. "You have been an immense help, Mr. Borgin. I hopefully did not take up too much of your time?"  
"No, no Mr. Snape..." I stood up to unlock the door. He exited first, I followed. I noticed that only five minutes had passed during our meeting: yet it had seemed like hours. As I hurried to the front door and unlocked it, he stood at the counter and impatiently drummed his fingers on the counter. I looked outside and saw no one was waiting, so the five minutes had apparently passed unimportantly.   
"I will take my Drying Dust shipment now, if you please."  
"Of course, Mr. Snape. Of course."  
I pulled the little box out from the counter. He slid over the Galleons and stopped drumming his fingers.  
"May I safely assume that I do not need to say that our meeting will remain a secret?"  
"I will not say a word, Mr. Snape."  
"See that you do."  
With one final look around the shop, he left.  
I sat down on my stool and breathed a heavy sigh of relief. Like I said, interesting clientele. Just another day at the office.  
Oddly enough, Mr. Snape was right. I did have many customers after him, an unusually large amount of people after dark. Many of them said they needed a 'gift' of some kind. I sold 3 Robes, 2 Brooches, a few books, but the most popular item was the Dust of Disablement--I sold at least 5 packages of the dust at 15 Galleons a pack. Someone even bought the blue lapus lutzi Bowl of Watery Death. It was turning out to be a very beneficial night indeed.  
But after the tenth visitor in an hour, I began to get a little worried. Why were all these wizards buying these 'gifts'? What was the occasion? Who was going to be on the receiving end? But the brief absence of my wand unnerved me, and I was determined to remain out of the loop.   
***  
Same night.  
8:30 pm  
I was dusting off a selection of poisonous cloaks when the bell ranged and one of my newer customers entered. He was foreign, around the Netherlands, I think, but still a good customer.  
"Ah, Mr. Karkaroff. Glad to see you've seen it fit to return."  
He drew his cloak around him closer.   
"I haff question for you," he said, nervously wringing his hands.  
"I will do my best to answer it, sir." I placed my duster on the counter and leaned upon it.  
"Vell..." He leans in and whispers, not at all the proud aristocrat. I guess they didn't act like that wherever he was from.  
"Haff you many purchases tonight?"  
"Yes, sir. We've been rather busy. Were you interested in a specific item? I might have another in storage"  
"No, no, that's fine."  
He looked around again and saw my other customer, looking at pair of wicked his and her daggers. Slowly he pulled a small box out of his robes and placed in on the counter carefully.  
"I...am here to make a delivery for one...Mr. Snape."  
He reacted slightly to the name of my best customer. I pursed my lips in skepitism.  
"He says...that he regrets forgetting to bring this earlier. He offers his condolences."  
He slid the box across to me. With a suspicious look, I open the box slowly. On the top of a bag is a note:   
There are a group of Death Eaters conspiring tonight to kill Lily and James Potter. They have given the Potters various Dark Artifacts. Here is 100 Galleons. Tell someone, but do not mention it was me. Severus Snape.  
I looked at the man, who had briefly turned to the window at the front of the shop. People were still passing before the window, as Knockturn Alley at night really brings out some it its more...interesting clientele.  
I opened the bag slowly and looked inside. 100 Galleons. I pulled out my wand and gently prodded the money, and it revealed it to be real.  
What this Snape figure was thinking, I don't know. Like I said, I didn't want to get involved. But 100 Galleons...  
I closed the lid gently and put it under the counter.  
"This is exactly what I needed. Tell Mr. Snape that this will be of great use."  
"I vill." The old Germanic accent should have impressed me, but again, this was tinged with the touch of fear. Apparently his unctuous voice did not hide his weak character. He eased himself away with a drawing in of his cloak and exited the store.  
I leaned against the counter. So much work. I swore I would stay out of the manner, I shouldn't betray my customers...but this was a murder. A planned murder. I could be convicted if anyone found out I knew something about it. The Potters were, too, ever-so popular. I read their names in the paper sporadically, but from what I had heard they were well accepted in the wizarding world. My business dealings would not help my case if, for some reason, they tried to link me to the case.  
My eyes fell upon today's paper. Its headline blared at me with a picture of the Potters:  
_Couple Celebrates Birth of First Child!_  
I determined that I could not 'stay out it'. I had to tell someone. But Karkaroff's and Snape's participation...no, I will not question that. Just state the fact, and walk away. Don't let curiosity stab you in the back...  
"Mr Borgin!"  
I lifted my head and pushed my hair back. A customer was standing at the counter, holding a candle and looking toward the poisonous cloaks.  
"I'm afraid someone tried one of your cloaks, sir."  
With a sigh, I rush out and retrieve the antidote before the poor stupid bloke died.  
***  
9:30pm  
The door dings. I had in my hands boxes of enchanted dice, made to turn sharp as knifes and attack the roller's eyes should they be rolled.  
I set down the package and groan inwardly at the young, redheaded man who had just taken off his hat.   
"Hello Mike!"  
I pressed my lips in a thin line and started sorting the boxes of dice.  
"Hello Wilbery."  
"Sorry I'm late, Mike, but we ran into some trouble in the Ministry. Something to do with exploding sinks...."  
The idiot from the Ministry placed his old Muggle hat on the table. This was my chance, but how ineloquent was the source? Still, with that threat...  
"If you will wait, sir, I will go get your shipment."  
I made my way to my office and shut the door, that idiot still whistling some ditty. I quickly wrote a note and stuck it into the bag of the 'shipment' for dear Wilbury outside which I had palmed into my robe on the way out. I reasoned that if he doesn't get the message, then the people at the Ministry are idiots. I exited and handed Wilbery the bag.  
"I trust that this is what you require?"  
He looked into the bag, no doubt saw the paper nestled in the money, and for a moment his youthful face disappeared into concern. But mercifully he closed the bag without a question. He took his hat, smiled, and grabbed his 'shipment'.  
"I'll see you same time next week, Mike?"  
"Same time, Mr. Wilbery"  
He waved and left the store.  
I sat on my stool, and could not decide whether to feel good for myself or feel like I committed some sort of crime myself.  
***  
Next morning.  
7am.  
Edward entered, carrying the paper.  
"How was it?"  
"Very busy." I showed him the ledgers, which from last night alone, we made almost 15.34% higher profit.  
"Hmmm. I understand. Look."  
He showed me the paper:  
_Plot to Kill Potters, Newborn Son Failed!_  
"They say that a tip was given to the Ministry of Magic concerning the use of a multitude of Dark Artifacts on the Potters." Edward sighed in annoyance.   
"That could explain the increase." I nodded slowly, but I had the feeling I caused this little news-article. Still, the air that we would have to once again testify made itself known. We would probably have to increase the 'shipment' also.  
I took my cloak from the coat rack and wrapped it around me.  
"All the items are documented," I said, "and we need to order more Delusional Dust."  
Edward ran a critical eye down my list of what I sold last night.   
"Agreed. Did you give him what he needed?" Edward said low, being unnecessarily ambiguous.  
"He came two hours late, but yes."  
"See you then."  
"See you."  
For some reason, I felt a little more satisfied of spirit as I left the shop and heard the little ding of the door as I stepped into the bright sunshine.  


Fin

Odd? Its more along the lines of "Something about a bar" but not with Rosmerta, but another off-forgotten character. I see a series of very minor characters somehow giving us a view of Snape during his spying days. Tell me--what'ya like, hate, thought was cool was just plain sucked. Or even recommendations for other characters. I have one in mind for Madam Hopkirk, Misuse of Magic Office. but that's far off yet : ).   
Anyway...email me at mssnape_34@yahoo.com with questions or comments. And if you like this one, read my others and review them, please! They get lonely! Any help is appreciated.

  



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